as the heart lays down, content
by Something Warm
Summary: Jake watches as his half-brother converses with his would-be teacher, Will Schuester. 4x02 —Quick


**No ownership. No money received. No sue, kay?**

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**as the heart lays down, content.**

_(Jake watches as his half-brother converses with his would-be teacher, Will Schuester. 4x02 —Quick)_

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Half a second later, Jake followed through his half-brother's dramatic exit, finding no need to stay in the room any longer. He gave a quick prayer in his mind, hoping to avoid any contact with one Will Schuester on his way out.

However to his dismay, he caught a glimpse of the Spanish teacher outside the choir room, as if standing guard. Instinctively, Jake jumped back and leaned against the wall. For a minute, all he heard were low mumbles, and the caramel-skin boy concluded that he was probably having a down-the-memory-lane chat with Puck.

Now usually, Jake would've just simply walked through the door with no care at all, but knowing those two — Jake had to make sure Puck wasn't revealing any useful information that could somehow aid Mr. Schue to "fix him up".

Or so he says.

So here he was, leaning against the wall like some goddamn loser to eavesdrop on some washed-up singer and a Lima-loser.

Mr. Schue was leaning against the creme-colored walls when Puck had approached him, supporting a fresh cup of coffee. Naturally, Puck had simply went and leaned against the opposite wall in front of him. "So, Puck, how's Quinn?" A pause followed up on his question. "She's... tired as hell,"

Quinn? Who's Quinn? His girlfriend, maybe?

But that wouldn't be right, Jake theorized; just before he'd left, Puck had made a comment about a date with some LA chick.

"How so?" Mr. Schue's amused voice snapped him out of his thoughts. Jake redirected his focus back to the pair before him. Mr. Schue lifted the hot cup to his face, blowing lightly before taking a small sip, waiting patiently for Puck's answer. The Jew had in return scrunched up his eyebrows in thought, as if debating how he should explain the situation.

He shifted slightly, and thrust his hands in his jean pockets. "Well, whenever we're together she can barely keep her eyes open and she's always slouching with those goddamn books she mulls around all day, but other than that— she's happy. Like, really happy." (and that makes Puck happy.)

Jake couldn't help but notice the small smile that graces his half-brother's face as he talks about this "Quinn".

Mr. Schue, however, embraces the subtle change and gives a hearty chuckle. "Well, that's Quinn for you— beautiful and hard-working." Puck snorts at that statement and rolls his eyes affectionately, as if what he had just said was a major understatement. "...And a pain in the ass."

The Spanish teacher chose wisely to say nothing, but instead hum in recognition to his accusation. But then a thought hits Mr. Schue and he frowns. "How do you guys find time to meet up with each other? I mean, isn't she all the way in Connecticut, busy with Yale and stuff?" Jake's eyes unintentionally widens in surprise, his mouth agape.

How the hell did Puck land _that _kind of girl?

Said guy nodded arrogantly at Mr. Schue's question, pride filling up his face. "By plane, 'course! We meet up once every month. Sometimes I fly out there and stay for a week or so; sometimes she pops up in LA— it depends. In fact, it should be about time for her to visit." If Mr. Schue was surprised, he didn't show it. Instead, the man gave a firm nod in understanding. "I see, I see."

At that, Puck grinned and raised up his hand. The Spanish teacher met his hand with his own, their smacking sound echoing off the quiet halls. "It's getting late, I better head back on the road. It was good seeing you Mr. Schue,"

"Likewise, Puckerman."

Dropping his hand, Mr. Schue gave a soft smile. "Drive safe,"

Puck gave a thumbs up before heading towards the exit. Just as he turns to leave, the loud unfamiliar tone of a phone call destroys the silence. Unfazed, Puck swiftly pulled out his cellphone and propped it open, all in one single move. "'Sup Milf,"

Jake rolled his eyes (probably another one of Puck's whore had called him), preparing to leave as Mr. Schue had also made his exit once Puck had flipped open his phone. "What?...You want me to pick you up at the airport? Now? But, I got this date with thi— okay, _fine_. Damn, no need to freakin' yell...I'm going, I'm going."

Huh.

That Quinn girl had just made Puck miss his date. What a whipped bastard.

As Jake walked out of that room, he entertained the idea of actually trying to find that one "Quinn" girl; one he can settle down with and give anything up for. But that girl had to definitely be special— Jake Puckerman deserved the best the world had to offer.

Hmm...maybe that Marley chick would do.

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**Didn't come out exactly like I had in mind, but I'm glad I actually got the lady-balls to write it. **

**_Reviews _are appreciated.  
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